The Fate of an Old Fool
by FullMoonEclipse
Summary: Azrael muses on his fate. Part Two: Regret. "I only knew of one last hope of salvation at the time, and against my judgement and by utter foolishness- I brought Abbadon to Eden."
1. Reflection

_Darksiders  
__The Fate of an Old Fool  
__Part One: Reflection_

For eons, my brothers and I have served our Father without question, but it was never without the occasional squabble. Sometimes it was over the smallest of trifles, and other times, arguments that lasted for days over whether or not it was right to carry out His Will. We often agreed- had it truly been honourable for Michael, our eldest brother, to battle the once-beloved Morning Star he had once adored? Was it truly Gabriel's duty to decide when the End War would begin, when he felt such compassion for the Kingdom of Man, despite their ignorance and violent ways? And was it truly justice, I once asked myself, when I had taken the life of every first-born child in the land of Egypt?

Sometimes these arguments would last for days on end, perhaps years. I have all too often heard my brothers and sisters argue over things that occurred centuries ago when tension has hung heavy in the air.

When Lucifer fell from grace (and Samael shortly after), we bore witness to our Father's sorrow, the creation of the Charred Council, the destruction of the Nephilim at the hands of the dreaded Horsemen, and the long millenia it took until both Heaven and Hell came to respect the Council and its laws.

It is no pleasant memory to recall.

Raphael found himself seeing enough wounds from among our ranks to last him for his lifetime, and it forever dimmed his cheerful disposition. Ariel's patience on the battlefield was pushed to its limits, Jeremiel's calm and composed mask of indifference irrevokably stained by anger and the fury of battle, and Michael's noble soul still remains scarred with the memory of the pain frozen upon the faces of the many soldiers we lost under his command.

When the pact was forged, it was not only Abbadon who was enraged over it. Metatron was disgusted that he ever had to record its creation, Sandalphon even more so. Others among us were on edge when they had heard the news, tension hanging heavily upon the White City. Michael fell silent for many days, worrying us all. Ariel eventually coaxed the truth from him- he agreed with Abbadon's initial outburst: "What we have lost should be paid in blood." But as much as we all agreed with our brother, the law was clear, and the punishment unto anyone foolish enough to break it, dire.

It is now, with some dark sense of amusement, consider myself as such. What else could we have done, I once asked myself when I remained for a century as Straga's prisoner, and now I realise that there was nothing we could have done to heal this ailing universe or mitigate its destruction.

_"Azrael,"_ The Horseman, War, turns to me._"At any time you could have left me to my fate- dead in the tower, lost among the ashes of Eden- why do you help me now? When this is over, the Council will see that justice is done. I will kill Abbadon…and all who schemed with him."_

I understand this quite well. Both Ulthane and I knew what would become of us if Abbadon's plan were to fail. But the question as to why the Red Rider was summoned when the seventh seal was not broken remained. What was the Council's role in this? Regardless, my fate remains unchanged.

_"We all must answer for our sins, Horseman. When the hour of my judgement comes, I will embrace it- whatever the light decides."_

But now is not the time for that. The Armageddon Blade must be made whole once more if there is any hope of stopping Abbadon.

_"Now, go, waste no more time on me. And tell Ulthane…"_ The soft chuckle I give is in bitter rememberance of the Old One's words, of how right he truly was that day as I add, _"He is the last hope of an Old Fool."_


	2. Regret

_Darksiders  
Fate of an Old Fool  
Part Two: Regret_

_**A.N:**__ Yeah, tried to keep this a oneshot and failed miserably. My bad._

Before any of this, very little drew me away from my library or the Well of Souls, one such case being that concerning the Abomination Vault that held the weapons forged from the corpses of the long-extinct Ravaiim. I had been summoned to the outpost near what remained of Eden by Abbadon some time before Belisatra's constructs attacked, and it was easy to understand why my brother would need me at his side. Abbadon and I have balanced the other out for millenia, and I was often consulted for advice on many occasions during his campaigns, even though my brother's stubborness would never allow him to admit such a thing.

Perhaps that balance we shared was what stayed my tongue when Abbadon persuaded me to break the seals. He knew well the consequences, but despite my attempts to sway him, his resolve would not falter. With Ulthane to reforge the seals, there would be no proof for the Charred Council to use as reason to summon the Horsemen to punish us. I wanted so much to believe that this would end the uneasy truce and the bloody war between Heaven and Hell once and for all, damn the consequences!

...But I doubt that anything could have prepared any of us for what came to pass.

I had retreated to my library to observe the battle on Earth not long after the Hellguard began their attack. Just when it seemed that the scales of fortune were tipped in Heaven's favour, things took a turn for the worst at that moment when the great stone fist of the demon Straga crushed Abbadon in his grip and dragged him down into the pit of magma below. A thousand cries echoed throughout the White City and all its outposts in mourning all at once.

Believing our cause lost, I went to the Well to meet him there, but what I saw shocked me silent. Abbdon stood before me, wounded, yes- but very much alive.

"I was a fool, Azrael," He told me. "Even if the Hellguard will withstand, I wish there was more I could have done."

I only knew of one last hope of salvation at the time, and against my judgement and by _utter foolishness_- I brought Abbadon to Eden.

At the time, the situation was desperate. The Hellguard could only last for so long, and no angel was allowed to leave the Earth until the Destroyer was dead, and it was starting to look like this would never be. We had to act quickly. The Tree of Knowlege would give us an answer, or so I hoped, a way to tilt the odds back in Heaven's favour. Abbadon went alone to the Tree, and I remained behind in an anxious state of waiting that seemed to last an eternity before he returned...

...but the Abbadon who returned was not the brother I once knew. Even now I cannot guess what his gift may have been, but when I realised my words would not compel him to speak, it was far too late.

I could only describe Abbadon's actions as madness. He seemed to be arguing with himself, his tone varying from hushed, frantic whispers and murmurs to great and terrible roars of anger. I only tried one final time to break through to him.

"What has become of you, my brother?" I asked him, but I was cast aside quite harshly, and quite literally. The rest is a blur to me, I fear. I remember Straga attacking us, hwo I fought as best I could to defend myself and the Garden, only to be defeated. I reached for Abbadon one final time, begged him like a starving child for his help...and he did nothing.

The first half of the long century that followed, I knew not what to feel. Oh, yes, I knew the stabbing pain of betrayal that has long since dulled, but I could not decide whether it was fury or sorrow that plagued my heart for the first twenty years until I became bitter for the next thirty.

Eventually, after years of interrogation and torture, I soon became resigned to the judgement that awaited me. I would be cast down, just as Hadrimon and Raciel had been, and banished into oblivion. At times there was sorrow, guilt, and the odd flare of bitter fury I felt towards the one I once called "brother". I began to fear the worst when I sensed that Abbadon- nay, the Destroyer- was using the Well of Souls to fuel his conquest of Earth and the realms beyond. Not only had I failed in my duty as Gatekeeper, but I had failed our Father, my Brothers and Sisters and all of Creation. At that point, I would have gladly accepted death- the waiting had made me quite anxious.

Oh, yes, there were times when I would have visitors, but never the desirable sort. If it wasn't Abbadon, it was Lillith, and if wasn't the vile Demon Mother, then it was usually Straga or his demon soldiers come to 'entertain' themselves by using me as target practice or tying me up and beating me like some wretched canid, and many a time I would wonder why they hadn't just ended me. This, combined with the knowlege of what the Well of Souls was being used for now did nothing to ease my anxieties, or, dare I say it, fear.

I suppose, now that I am waiting for War to slay my brother, that there will be no escape from the fate I have carved for myself, nor will Abbadon be able to escape his own, for we are the masters of our own fate, and to whatever end we may reach, the means of which we attained it will surely be justified in the end.


End file.
